Battousai
by Kitsanken
Summary: A dieing child, an ancient imprisoned being, the legend is reborn into a new time through an act of compassion long believed to be impossible for one such as he. (It's ALIVE! Chapter 6: Scarring)
1. Chapter 1 Imprisoned Being

Rurouni Kenshin Fanfic

_Rurouni__ Kenshin & Samurai X Original Japanese Version © N.Watsuki/Shueisha * Fuji-TV * SME Visual Works Inc. * Sony Pictures Entertainment_

_All Fanfics created by Chiruken (me) were written for the sole purpose of shared entertainment and not intended for publication or sale._

**~**

Battousai

By Chiruken

Imprisoned Being

    He floated in darkness, an oblivion devoid of sound, taste, touch and sight.  Time meant nothing, hours, days, years, there was no actual distinction.  He was aware, yet not.  The seal placed upon him was absolute, allowing nothing of the outside world to seep into his prison and nothing of himself to leak through into the reality outside of his cage.  He was aware of himself, of his boredom, his loneliness, yet there was no way to break through.  He existed, nothing more.

    He thought to curse those responsible for his confinement, yet he couldn't dredge up the energy to do so.  He was aware that he'd deserved the judgment passed down on him, the sentence mild in comparison to the crimes committed while he roamed the earth.  He knew he should feel anger towards those who'd done this to him, yet he couldn't.  The part of him that was still awake was aware of the wrongness of his actions and felt this punishment was well placed.

    Another part, the piece lying dormant within his consciousness, railed at his fate, longed for vengeance against the mortals who'd condemned him and imprisoned him in a timeless state of partial oblivion.  He cursed their incompetence that had resulted in his state of living yet not living, bound for eternity with the confines of the endless nothingness, sealed away for all time.

    He wanted to feel the wind in his hair, the sun on his face.  He wanted to experience the thrill of the hunt, the consuming heat of battle.  He longed for the touch of human contact, the sounds of humanity surrounding him, laughing, screaming, crying.  He longed to see the blood, the tears, the absolute beauty of life and death beyond played out before him.  He wanted out of his prison.

    He'd struggled, cursed, fought the binding spell that placed him into the darkness.  He'd pleaded, promised anything, all to no avail.  No one heard him, their ears closed to his voice, their minds closed to his thoughts.  His influence had been broken, his power depleted.  Their fear had turned to hatred which had been his downfall.  His time, they'd told him coldly, was long passed; he was no longer needed or wanted.  They'd turned their backs on him and thrown him into his own personal hell, forgotten.

    He longed for freedom, the ability to experience the world again.  In all his existence he'd never felt this all consuming need for contact before, for the chance to, just once, speak and be heard.  His rage had dwindled, died, transformed into despair.  They had cursed him, given him the ability to feel and he hated it.  He remembered the absolute freedom of being without emotion and he yearned to return to that time, to halt the whirlwind of emotions assailing him as he floated, trapped, caught between worlds.  He hated the guilt that threatened to tear him apart, the sorrow that drowned him in tears that could not be shed.  Loneliness consumed him, threatened his sanity, pushed him ever closer to madness.

    He'd been forgotten, cast into the distant memories of people long dead.  His deeds were barely remembered as legends told to children to ensure their obedience.  His name, lost to time.  He was a creature of legend, nothing to take seriously, something to laugh about in the innocence of ignorance.  He didn't know which was worse…his imprisonment itself, or the way he'd been so utterly and completely forgotten.  His existence must have been forgotten since no one came any more to check the seals, to ensure that he was still, indeed, trapped within the cage built specifically for him.

    He floated in darkness, the oblivion all consuming, wrapped within his own mind, trapped within his thoughts and memories.  Time was meaningless to one such as he, immortality lending him the patience and fortitude to pass through time unaffected.  That is, until faced with an eternity of darkness.  Time began to suffocate him, weigh heavily upon his consciousness, threatened to drown him in the steady flow.  Without a physical means to track the flow of time, with no way to occupy his mind, he was left twisting in eternity, chained by magic long forgotten in the real world.

~~*~~

**_Author's Notes:_**

**This is an experiment of sorts and feedback would be greatly appreciated, that it would.  Please let me know if this idea is worth pursuing.**

**^_^x**

**Chiruken**


	2. Chapter 2 Merging

Rurouni Kenshin Fanfic

_Rurouni__ Kenshin & Samurai X Original Japanese Version © N.Watsuki/Shueisha * Fuji-TV * SME Visual Works Inc. * Sony Pictures Entertainment_

_All Fanfics created by Chiruken (me) were written for the sole purpose of shared entertainment and not intended for publication or sale._

**~**

Battousai

By Chiruken

Merging

    He didn't know how long he stayed, trapped, in his sealed prison, but now something was different.  He felt an indescribable weight settling on his spirit.  There was a break in the seal, a tiny crack that allowed him to **_see** passed the darkness.  He could **__hear** beyond his own thoughts and he wondered at it.  His senses were returning to him, overwhelming him with sensations from the outside world._

    He listened, hearing a distant rushing of air.  He stretched out his senses, listening intently.  Again the sound came to him and he recognized it as breathing.  A human was nearby!  He almost wept with relief.  He'd been remembered after all!  He hadn't been forgotten.  Joy rushed through him until he caught the scent of salt water.  **_Tears?*_* He thought curiously.  Someone nearby wept.

    He struggled, fighting against the remaining invisible chains binding him within his prison, surprised that he was able to do so after so long.  With a gut-wrenching pop he found himself free at last.  He paused, uncertain of what he should do now that he was no longer bound to his prison.  Without a physical body he was reduced to being fairly useless, yet his curiosity urged him forward.

    He gazed down, seeing a small body, a child he assumed, huddled before a shrine, his clothes ragged tatters on his thin frame.  He moved closer, seeing the child's shoulders shaking with near silent sobs and he wondered what would cause such hopeless grief in one so young.  As he moved closer still, he sensed death clinging to the boy and knew his life was near its end.  Unfamiliar emotions welled up within him, and he silently cursed those who'd done this to him.  Before, when he'd roamed the world freely, he'd been unhindered by emotion, now he felt weighed down by it.  It took a moment for him to realize that what he felt was compassion.

    He gazed down at the child and bent closer, seeing the unmistakable signs of abuse.  His tiny arms were covered in bruises, his wrists encircled by bands of raw flesh.  The boy had been mistreated terribly, the cruelty unmistakable.  His hair lay matted and dirty against his thin shoulders, unbound and tangled.  His small hands were raw and covered with dirt.  **_A slave?** It seemed the most likely assumption, given his ragged appearance.  He turned away, intending to leave to boy to his fate, unwilling to linger when the child's life force was seeping away before his eyes.  There was nothing he could do to save his life even if he wished to.  His death was unavoidable._

    "Please…" He paused, listening to the threadbare whisper of sound.  Was the child aware of his presence?  He bent closer to hear better.  The boy's eyes were closed, his lips moving with barely a sound escaping him.  He became aware that the child was praying.

    **_So…he is aware that his life is at its end.** He settled down beside the child, listening as he spoke what was likely to be his last words.  He bent closer and concentrated, finding that his time of imprisonment had dwindled his ability to communicate effectively.  "What is it you want, child?" He asked softly, the words whispering on the breeze._

    His head came up slowly, eyes opening to reveal a soft blue gaze over bright with unshed tears.  "Wh-who's there?"  He looked around cautiously, but saw no one, his question met with silence broken only by the wind swaying through the trees overhead.

    "Does is matter who I am?"  He asked, fascinated by the intelligence revealed in the boy's fearful gaze.  "What are you called?"

    "Shinta."  He whispered, lowering his head again to rest in his folded arms.  "I am Shinta."

    "Shinta…" He murmured, watching the child intently.  "You are dying, Shinta."

    "I know.  I am glad you are here, whoever you are.  I didn't want to die alone."

    "Loneliness is a terrible thing."  He stretched out and stared up at the stars through the thick branches above them.

    "Do kami feel loneliness?"  He was finding it difficult to concentrate on the conversation.  His chest hurt with each painful breath he took, his heart laboring to keep him in the world of the living.

    "Is that what you think I am?"  Amusement tinged his tone.

    "Aren't you?"

    "No."  He turned his gaze back to Shinta.  "Do you want to die, Shinta?"

    "No, but I don't think I have a choice."

"I don't want to be alone anymore."  He sat up and stared at the child's small, battered body and frowned.  "You don't have to die, Shinta.  I can keep you alive."

"How?"  He was afraid, but also hopeful.

"I can lend you my strength."  Hope surged through him.  If this child would agree, then he never had to be alone again.  He'd be given another chance to walk through the world of mortals.

"But how?"  He opened his eyes and stared at the moss covered rocks beneath him.

"If you agree, I can show you."  He waited until, finally, the boy nodded.  Gathering himself, he shifted into the child, gasping at the sensations assaulting his senses.  Pain and hunger were foremost, drowning everything else out.  He retreated, then, to the back of the boy's consciousness and observed the world through his eyes.

"That's it?"  Shinta blinked and looked around, slowly pushing himself up.  He felt stronger, not nearly as weak as he'd been moments before.  It no longer hurt to breath, his heart beat strongly within his chest.  Somehow, the being had saved his life.

**~**

**_Author's Notes:_******

**The first uploading messed up, so this is a second try…hopefully it works this time.  Sorry for any inconvenience…**


	3. Chapter 3 Death

Rurouni Kenshin Fanfic

_Rurouni__ Kenshin & Samurai X Original Japanese Version © N.Watsuki/Shueisha * Fuji-TV * SME Visual Works Inc. * Sony Pictures Entertainment_

_All Fanfics created by Chiruken (me) were written for the sole purpose of shared entertainment and not intended for publication or sale._

**~**

Battousai

By Chiruken

Death

    Death was all around him, the stench thick on the air.  He choked, feeling the sticky warmth of blood coating his tattered clothes.  Screams echoed in his mind, accompanied by course laughter and curses overriding pleas for mercy.  He knew he was going to die, just like everyone else.  The bandits were cutting down everyone, whether they be slaves or slave traders.  It didn't seem to matter to them.  They were enjoying the thrill of the killing and it sickened him.

    He was cornered, the older girls the slave traders had acquired cowering just behind him.  He looked down, seeing a discarded katana and reached for it.  The weight was more than he'd expected, the hilt too large for his small hands, yet it felt right.  Some part of him recognized the weight of the weapon and knew how to compensate for it.  He felt a shifting within him and knew instinctively that the being that had saved his life had somehow joined with him, was within him, lurking just beyond his awareness.

    He straightened, lifting the heavy weapon before him, and faced the bandits approaching with blades drawn and dripping blood.  He trembled, afraid, and clenched his jaw to keep his teeth from chattering.  Suddenly he felt calmness infusing him.  To his surprise, he found himself watching the events as if from a distance, as if he were looking through someone else's eyes.  His grip changed on the hilt, became more certain, and his body tensed as the long blade rose to a ready position.

    **_At last!  Something I can do.  Fear not, Shinta…I will not let these vermin touch you.** Within his mind Shinta cowered, afraid of what was about to come.  His body was no longer his own, having been taken over by the being he shared it with.  He knew with a certainty that terrified him that the men approaching were about to die…by his hand.  He wasn't controlling it, but he knew that he was about to kill the bandits who had slaughtered the other slaves.  He didn't want to kill them, he didn't want to kill **_anyone_** but if he didn't do something, then the young women behind him would die.  His resolve strengthened, he gave up control completely and retreated to the sanctuary within his mind._

    Sparing a small portion of his attention, he attempted to shield the child's mind from what was about to come.  Shinta, he'd learned, was much to gentle to witness such carnage as what was about to come.  This was his realm.  He was a bringer of death, a being forged in the heat of battle who reveled in the blood lust now singing in his veins.  He would use his skills to protect the child he now shared a body with and the females he wished save.  No harm would come to them, he would ensure it.

    Suddenly he was dragged back, the katana falling with a clatter from his hands.  He gasped in surprise, his eyes being covered.  "Don't look!"  But he did.  He watched as first one woman, and then another was struck down, their words echoing in his mind.  The one holding him was dragged away by her hair, her voice rising in a plea for his life.  "Please, spare this child!"  His couldn't take his gaze away as the blade passed through the back of her neck to emerge from her throat.  She fell to the ground, eyes seeking his.  "Live, Shinta…for me…" The rest of her words were cut off cruelly with a sharp thrust of the bloody katana.  He felt Shinta's horror and cringed inwardly, knowing that the boy had witnessed the brutal slaying of the women as well.  He cursed himself for not shielding him more effectively.  The katana was too far from him, out of reach.  He would have to find another means of eliminate the threat.  The next instant it was a moot point.  One after another the bandits were cut down.  He retreated immediately, sensing the powerful ki of the unknown swordsman.  He doubted he would slay a child, but if he sensed **_his_** presence, death would be assured.

**~**

**_Author's Notes:_******

**Honestly…am I the only one that has so much trouble uploading a simple chapter?!**


	4. Chapter 4 Training

Rurouni Kenshin Fanfic

_Rurouni__ Kenshin & Samurai X Original Japanese Version © N.Watsuki/Shueisha * Fuji-TV * SME Visual Works Inc. * Sony Pictures Entertainment_

_All Fanfics created by Chiruken (me) were written for the sole purpose of shared entertainment and not intended for publication or sale._

**~**

Battousai

By Chiruken

Training

    He watched, unobserved, undetected, as the large sword's master demonstrated the next technique.  The Hiten Mitsurugi Ryuu intrigued him, fascinated him.  It was, in his opinion, the perfect killing technique.  Obviously the creator of the style had been a genius.  The speed was incomparable, the form flawless.  Anyone on the receiving end of a blade wielded in this sword technique would not live to tell about it.  It was perfectly suited to him.

    He sighed silently and mentally shook his head.  It was perfect for **_him_** but Shinta was far too gentle to effectively use the Hiten Mitsurugi Ryuu.  It was a pity, he decided.  The boy's small size may hinder his brute strength, but it increased his speed beyond compare.  His quick mind and amazing endurance ensured his mastery of the sword, but his gentle nature made it a moot point.  He would never use the technique as it was obviously intended to be used.

    He'd been spending more and more time at the surface of the boy's mind, taking control at will.  He knew Shinta was unconcerned by this fact and took advantage of his seeming willingness to sit back and watch, so to speak.  The swordsman had renamed him Kenshin, a fitting name if he thought so himself.  **_Heart of sword…interesting that he'd think of it._** He brought his attention back to the task at hand and moved forward, gently pushing Shinta's consciousness back so he could take control again.

    "Are you listening to me, baka deshi?"  Hiko Seijuurou, thirteenth master of the Hiten Mitsurugi Ryuu scowled at his student, annoyed by the continuous blank stare he received throughout his lessons.  "Kenshin, pay attention."  He smirked when the boy snapped to attention, turning his gaze to him immediately.  He shook his head and returned to the lesson.  The boy was a mystery.  His appearance was frail, yet it belied the strength he'd seen him use time and again.  His eyes often held a vacant look, as if he were conversing within his mind.  That bothered the older man more than he liked to admit.  He was afraid that he'd made a tremendous error in taking the child as his pupil.  He learned quickly, mastering the techniques with seeming ease, yet his mind remained under developed.  He knew Kenshin was intelligent, yet there were times he wondered at his sanity.  He demonstrated once more and stepped back, lowering his katana.  "Now you do it."

    "Yes, shishou."  He lifted the heavy katana and assumed a stance mirroring the older man's.  Narrowing his eyes he envisioned the lesson he'd witnessed just moments before and executed a perfect imitation of the technique.

    Hiko shook his head, disturbed more than ever.  The boy's move had been flawless, yet his eyes had held a strange light.  There were times that Hiko would swear that the child's eyes changed from blue to amber, seemingly at random, but more so when he was engaged in his lessons.  It was impossible, he knew.  One's eyes just didn't change color at random, yet before him was the proof.  On top of the changing eye color, he'd sensed a very odd shift in his ki, one that if he didn't know better, signified a warrior possessing much more skill and experience than his little baka deshi.  He grunted his approval and sheathed his katana swiftly.  "Get cleaned up.  We're done for the day."  He checked the position of the sun and turned on his heel, heading back towards the small house he shared with the boy.  "Hurry up.  It's your turn to make supper."

    "It's always my turn."  He muttered under his breath, sliding the blade into its saya before following the larger man.  It was just as well that Hiko made him do all the cooking.  The older man's culinary skills were definitely not on the same level as his swordsmanship.  Simply put, he could burn water and not notice the difference.  He wondered at that.  How could a man live alone, secluded on a mountain, and not be able to cook for himself?  It made no sense to him.  He shrugged and pushed the thoughts aside.  This was Shinta's department.  The boy could make mud taste good, but he himself was better equipped for wielding a sword than a cooking knife.  He retreated once again to the back of the boy's consciousness, aware yet no longer in control.

**~**

**_Author's Notes:_******

**Please let me know if this is worth continuing.  I'd greatly appreciate any feedback offered (preferably not in the form of flames, thought).**


	5. Chapter 5 Revolution

Rurouni Kenshin Fanfic

_Rurouni__ Kenshin & Samurai X Original Japanese Version © N.Watsuki/Shueisha * Fuji-TV * SME Visual Works Inc. * Sony Pictures Entertainment_

_All Fanfics created by Chiruken (me) were written for the sole purpose of shared entertainment and not intended for publication or sale._

**~**

Battousai

By Chiruken

Revolution

    He was in his element.  The darkness of the moonless night called to him, a siren's song of suppressed violence.  The scent of blood was intoxicating, luring him, enticing him.  His blade rose and fell, cutting a swath of carnage, raining more blood down to soak the streets of Kyoto.  At last he'd found his place in this new world that he'd been thrust into!

    Amber eyes blazing with bloodlust, he used his full strength to bring down his enemies, a mocking smirk curving his lips upwards.  This was what he'd been born for…death, blood, battle.  It was who he was…Battousai.  The fools had named him aptly.  Half remembered legends, to them, had fit him so well that they thought to name him after the demon of their distant past.  "If only they knew…" He muttered, executing a curt chiburi to rid his blade of the blood staining its gleaming perfection.

    He was careful, throughout all his activities, to shield Shinta from his actions.  He'd grown fond of his 'host' and had no wish to cause him harm.  If the boy were aware of what was happening it would destroy his gentle mind.  He didn't like the thought of causing pain to the child who'd unwittingly freed him from his imprisonment.

    There was one drawback to his newfound freedom, however.  He scowled, feeling the unfamiliar emotions raging through him.  In the past he'd been without emotion, unhindered by what the human's referred to as guilt, compassion, sorrow.  He hated the feelings he was now forced to endure, yet there was no way to stop them.  He was trapped just as surely as when he'd been caged in the oblivion he'd been sealed into, only now it was a prison of his own making.

    He turned his back on the corpses and strode away into a darkened alley.  He wondered if freedom was worth the nightmares he was now plagued with.  Every night he relived the battles he fought and won, seeing the faces of the men he killed, heard their voices cursing him for all eternity.  Thankfully Shinta hadn't noticed…not yet, at least.  In a way, he wished he were as oblivious as the boy was.  He didn't like the way his heart raced with panic, tears filling his eyes as he awakened in the dead of night from the nightmares, but he refused to share his torment with the child.  It wouldn't be…right.

    He returned to the inn housing the faction he'd joined and turned his steps immediately towards the bathhouse.  He wished to rid himself of the stench of blood and death before Shinta awakened again.  He wasn't certain how long he could keep the child oblivious to his nightly excursions, how long the boy would remain blissfully unaware of what his body did during the night when he slept.  Part of Shinta's consciousness was aware that he now worked for the Choushu clan, but he didn't seem to know what, exactly, it was he did.  It was just as well.  Battousai intended to keep the child unaware for as long as possible.

    He dumped bucket after bucket of cold water over his head, shivering in his dripping clothes, watching as the blood ran in pink rivulets down the drain.  **_So much blood…so many deaths…** He sighed and finished cleaning himself, stripping from his soaked clothing and donning a clean yukata before leaving the bathhouse.  In one hand he held his katana, in the other he held a child's toy._

    He entered his room and sat with his back to a stack of books, staring out the window at the dark yard below.  He shifted, raising one leg and tucking the other beneath him, resting his sheathed katana against his shoulder as he bowed his head.  With a soft sigh he closed his amber eyes and relinquished control once again to the boy he shared the body with.  He would sleep, for now, until he was called upon again to use his skills to kill in the dead of night.  Until then he would continue to shield the child from the visions plaguing his memories, the death and blood coating his hands and soul, never to be cleansed from his body again.  He would protect Shinta from the horrors of his actions.  Innocence such as his should never be touched by the nightmares of his reality.

**~**


	6. Chapter 6 Scarring

Rurouni Kenshin Fanfic

_Rurouni Kenshin & Samurai X Original Japanese Version © N.Watsuki/Shueisha Fuji-TV SME Visual Works Inc. Sony Pictures Entertainment_

_All Fanfics created by Chiruken (me) were written for the sole purpose of shared entertainment and not intended for publication or sale._

**Battousai**

By Chiruken

Scarring

Battousai wasn't certain how it had happened, but Shinta had awakened in the middle of a battle. Distracted by the child's horrified shock and mental wail of distress, he'd faltered. Now he bore the mark of one stubborn, yet incredibly poor, swordsman. He lifted his hand slowly and traced his fingers over the bloody wound marring his cheek. His displeasure was immense, yet his time was occupied with attempts at consoling his "host" rather than focusing on his anger at being caught unawares by an inferior warrior. To appease both the boy and his own unfamiliar feelings of compassion, he dropped a blossom on the body of the man who'd managed to mark him...the first in untold centuries to do so.

He stared at the man called Izuka, dislike glinting in his amber eyes. Somehow, the man reminded him of a snake...he wasn't certain what it was about him, but he had a feeling that Izuka would cause him no small amount of grief at some point in the future. However, he was unable to act upon his suspicions and eliminate the possible threat he posed. To do so would be an act of treason against the faction he'd claimed loyalty to...and also, with Shinta fully conscious and aware, it would be unthinkably cruel to subject the boy to such an act of cold brutality. With no proof, he wouldn't be able to justify his actions to his host to a suitable level. So, Izuka, the snake, would live...for the time being.

He turned his attention once again to calming Shinta. The boy was beginning to realize just what it was he was playing host to, Battousai realised. He'd hoped that the truth would never become an issue, but here was evidence of what hoping did for him. Sighing, he turned his steps towards the privacy of the river bank. He wanted no witnesses around if either he or Shinta forgot themselves during their upcoming conversation and spoke aloud. He didn't wish for his host's mental stability to be questioned any more than it already was.

_ Shinta..._ He began slowly, carefully modulating his mental voice into an almost gentle whisper. _It is regrettable that you had to witness that._

_ You killed him!_

Battousai winced at the panicked shout echoing within his mind. There were times that being so closely joined with the boy was trying...and others that it became nearly unbearable. _Yes, I killed him._ He didn't bother to deny such a simple fact, the evidence had been there before the boy's eyes.

_ But why? What did he do? _Shinta was clearly puzzled and though he was obviously stricken by Battousai's actions, he wished to understand the reasoning behind the violence. He didn't want to lose his faith in the creature that had saved his life while he'd still been a slave.

_ He wouldn't stand down._ Even to him, it sounded like a poor excuse for taking the unknown man's life. _In a time of war, there can be no hesitation._

_ But..._

_ Compassion has no place on a battlefield. To have allowed that man to live would have compromised our usefulness...our goal._

_ Our...goal? _Much to Battousai's relief, Shinta appeared to be calming.

_ In order to achieve our goal, the Ishinshishi must be victorious. The final outcome of this war that we find ourselves in should appeal to you, Shinta. An era of peace._

_ I wouldn't have thought that you would think of that._

He started and stood up straighter, golden eyes widening in his surprise. _I don't understand._

_ I'm not deaf. The people at the inn talk while you sleep...they say you're...that **I** am a hitokiri. You've tried to hide the truth from me...why?_

_ I had no wish to trouble you._

_ You kill people while I'm asleep. You've killed a lot of people. How can murder ever result in the peace you mentioned?_

Battousai raised his hand and pinched the bridge of his nose. A discussion of ethics with his host wasn't what he'd hoped for when he began the conversation, yet somehow it had turned into one. _In the end, once the Ishinshishi have gained power over the government they wish to implement...and the emperor has been restored to his rightful place as leader of the people, peace will reign._

_ Impossible. _Shinta's mental tone revealed his growing anger towards the being he shared his body with. _Violence does nothing but create more violence. How can you, of all people, not know this? Aren't the kami wise and knowledgeable?_

_ I'm no kami, boy._

_ Then...then wh-what are you? You saved my life...after I prayed at a shrine you came to me...if you aren't kami, then what are you?_

He had hoped the day would never come when he would have to explain to Shinta just what manner of being he truly was. The rift between the two was growing with each passing moment as they found themselves on opposite sides of this argument, and the truth would only make the situation worse. He didn't want to answer, yet he felt that the boy deserved an answer all the same. The silence stretched as he searched for a way to convey an answer to Shinta's question that wouldn't scare the boy witless. He finally settled on something that was rather ambiguous, yet oddly accurate. _Youkouhei. _He wasn't certain if he should be worried or grateful that Shinta didn't question him further. With a deep sigh of regret he turned and stepped back onto the road. He felt an almost unnatural compulsion to clean himself of the blood and stench of death, the aftermath of the recent battle. He lifted his hand again and touched his fingers to his injury. He had a feeling the scar left by the nameless man he'd just killed would have a great impact on the lives of himself and Shinta in the days to come.

_**Author's Notes:**_

_**Just as a quick note...to the best of my knowledge the word "Youkouhei" isn't in a Japanese dictionary. I took the liberty of "making up" a word. "You" is derived from "youkai" meaning ghost; apparition; phantom; spectre; demon; monster; goblin;... and "kouhei" was taken from arms; war; armed warrior. The meaning I was attempting to achieve was something like "War Demon" or "Warrior Demon". Japanese Roumaji words and meanings were found here: http: www. solon. org/ cgi-bin/ j-e/ dict (of course, minus the spaces since FFn apparently doesn't like links).  
**_

_**And...once again, I apologize for taking so darn long to update. I have a ton of excuses all lined up for the delay...but the simplest explanation would be that I forgot where I was going with the story and didn't know how to proceed.**_


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